


better the wolf you know

by thinkatory



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Meld, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ritual Sex, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24628729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkatory/pseuds/thinkatory
Summary: "An explanation, then." Elias leans over him from behind, stroking a hand lightly into his now too-long hair, down his back. "An old ritual demands that two people see each other truly and are witnessed by that which sees all.""Illuminating," Jon mutters.Elias laughs, brief. "I told you a demonstration would be better."
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 15
Kudos: 73
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	better the wolf you know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yashitsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yashitsu/gifts).



> I know I tagged unrequited stuff for this piece, but this one popped out with a resentful Jon who's maybe a shade away from requiting something in an awful way. I'd be tempted to write a followup chapter where Jon gets dubconned into a deeply dysfunctional requited relationship with Elias after this, though, do let me know if you'd be interested in that.

Jon is many things – difficult, prickly, dismissive, and largely asocial – but he is not stupid. It's been difficult for him in past to interpret signals coming off of people who have a non-platonic interest in him, but within a few months of Jon becoming Head Archivist, Elias does away with being subtle. Or he is – he certainly hasn't said anything sexual or romantic to Jon – but in a way that Jon can't in all honesty deny. Is it possible to be unsubtle and subtle at the same time? It's not as though Jon would know.

It does seem possible that Jon is just projecting, somehow, though that doesn't make sense either. Jon doesn't look for romantic entanglement or sexual contact. Sometimes it happens to him, but that's usually someone else's doing. It's something to do with the way Elias looks at him in the few times a week that the two of them run across each other, a casual sort of focused contemplation, as though saying through simple eye contact, _Yes, you._

That kind of contact doesn't feel the way he's used to it feeling. He tends to react poorly and shut down when he doesn't like the person moving in on him, and awkwardly when he actually does enjoy their company. Things worked out fine with Georgie for a time, but that had a lot to do with Georgie being Georgie. This feels different. It feels like he's under a microscope, not in someone's head.

Of course, he could complain to someone about feeling uncomfortable. For some reason he doesn't think that would go very far, for one thing, and for the other he... still respects Elias Bouchard anyway? And it seems that Elias still respects him as well, despite apparently wanting all of that. 

The point is, it could be a lot worse.

Elias enters his office without knocking. Jon focuses on his research and doesn't look up. "Hello, Elias."

"Jon." Elias seems... perky, as far as Elias goes. "You're here late."

He dispenses with the eyeroll about the late Gertrude Robinson's 'organizational' system, as everyone's used to that by now. "No end to the work here, I'm afraid."

"I do admire your work ethic." Elias drifts further into the room. "It might take a lifetime or two to sort this all out, you know."

"I'll apply for a second if I must," Jon says, in brisk deadpan.

Elias's laugh is brief. Jon doesn't think he'd enjoy hearing Elias burst out laughing. It'd be alien, uncharacteristic, and far too like everyone out there in the world who Jon is intently avoiding. "Will you be finished with that soon?" he prompts Jon. "I have something for you."

Oh god. "Yes?" Jon asks, mostly hiding his annoyed dread, and tries to focus on the research. It's not exactly working.

"Yes," Elias confirms, still that strange level of mild upbeat.

Ah. Conversation. He can do that. "Dare I ask what?"

"Something I think we can both appreciate." Elias visibly muses on what to say next. " _Progress_ ," he concludes. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"I can't disagree with that." Jon hasn't felt much by way of progress since he's been Head Archivist, to be sure. It's mostly been an endless sledge of shit.

"Well." He tilts his head, casually present, unimposing in his way. "Come along."

Jon isn't going to get to finish what he's doing, is he? "Where should I meet you?" he tries.

"What you're doing can wait." Elias doesn't seem concerned or brusque about it, either. "Come with me."

He's being perfectly reasonable about it, and also runs the Institute, so there's really no point in arguing. Jon follows him, weary; it's past ten PM, he would normally be only half an hour away from tea and bed, and this doesn't seem like it's going to be a short arrangement. It's also a long walk, and he's starting to dread this all again, which only worsens when he realizes where they are.

"Artifact Storage," Jon voices.

"Yes," Elias says, pleasantly enough. "This way."

"You want me to go into Artifact Storage."

"Yes," Elias returns, patient yet.

Jon is fairly sure his reservations about this are logically sound. "Why are we going into Artifact Storage?"

Elias is watching him now, with that look on his face that Jon is either reading perfectly or reading into. "There's something we need to do."

There's no point in arguing this, is there? Damn. He nods, looks away, and waits for Elias to lead the way.

Artifact Storage is worrying in a completely different way than Jon would have anticipated. Jon prides himself on not being stupid enough to think about things in a children's 'spooky' sense, but he'd imagined the place being cold, dim, with troubling shadows. Instead, it's lit by motion-activated LED, bright but not blazing, no questionable shadows, and has a reasonable room temperature going for it. The rooms are smaller than he would've anticipated, and he wonders just how much of the Institute is made up of them. Artifact Storage seems to be one of the larger pursuits of the Institute, and these rooms could hardly appear to hold all of them.

They make it three rooms into Artifact Storage before Elias stops; the lights flicker on as they enter the doorway, and Elias releases a short breath. Jon opens his mouth to speak, but Elias says first, "There's a stone table against that wall. I want you to look at it and tell me what you see."

This feels far more complicated than just a trip to observe an artifact, somehow, and he's beginning to wonder if this is some sort of test, or, worse, experiment. No, he resolves, Elias wouldn't waste a perfectly good Archivist on some kind of experiment; research assistants are much more expendable. He approaches the table and examines it, careful not to touch; it's polished stone, near-reflective, and has an eye strikingly carved into the center. He's struck with the horrible urge to touch the mark of the eye, to draw his fingertip along it like an absentminded distraction of a carving in a school desk during his school days, but that feels like an immensely bad idea.

It's only the briefest pause before Jon opens his mouth to speak, but the eye has distracted him for too long; he's shoved facefirst into the table so hard he smacks his head, dazed from the blow, and he just barely registers the feeling of handcuffs closing around his wrists. Once he realizes something is truly, definitely wrong, he tries to push himself up, but he's tight against the table.

Even dazed, he's always been better than most at putting things together: somehow, the carved eye is gripping him to the table, holding him fast.

"This is an important artifact," Elias says from behind him. "One I'll admit I rarely have to use, but situations arise."

"What are you doing?" Jon voices, voice muffled; he twists his head a bit. "Elias, this is – "

"If you would like me to explain, I'm happy to," Elias says, "though I think a demonstration might be clearer."

"I'd rather not," Jon says, tone flattening. He won't show fear, though it's starting to seep through him like the cold of rainwater from your clothes into your skin, slow but vividly present.

"An explanation, then." Elias leans over him from behind, stroking a hand lightly into his now too-long hair, down his back. "An old ritual demands that two people see each other truly and are witnessed by that which sees all."

"Illuminating," Jon mutters.

Elias laughs, brief. "I told you a demonstration would be better." Before Jon can get out another comment – a likely unwise move in any case – Elias is undoing Jon's trousers and belt. Jon flinches against both the restraints around his wrists and that which holds him to the table, but nothing gives. Somehow he can feel Elias's perfect, satisfied calm behind him, his steady breathing, as he pulls Jon's trousers down to his knees and begins to touch his cock.

Jon's idle concerns about any questionable thoughts his boss had about him have never prepared him for this. He tries to shift away from Elias's touch, but Elias is firm, close, his hand both light and purposeful around his cock now.

This is not his thing in the best of scenarios, and he just keeps his mouth shut and bites hard into his lip from the discomfort. But all at once it's not just Elias behind him, that vague sense of satisfied presence tight against him, Elias is around him, inside him, not physically, but he knows he's there. Jon can't steady his breathing anymore.

"Stop," Jon says harshly, cheek cold against the table.

"I see you, Jon," Elias says, feigned gentle. "Do you see me?"

"I see you." It's true. He sees Elias, or what Elias will allow him to see, he _feels_ Elias, and the arousal peaking in him. Elias wants him.

The wanting arcs through Jon before he can stop it, and he tries to reject it, but his cock stirs anyway. "Good," Elias murmurs, and heat stammers its way through Jon, not a perfect transfer of desire but enough to get him hard. Jon wonders for just a moment if this is a nightmare, but Elias _sees_ , and answers in an easy tone, "No. This is real, and it's important."

Ugh. Jon flinches as it almost feels _good_ despite the sickening feeling in his stomach, and Elias's voice remains soft. "You're doing so well, Jon. Open up to me."

At first he wants to ask what Elias means, but it would be a stupid question. He knows. He tries to fight against the tendrils of Elias in his mind, but the power of the moment, of whatever ritual, is too much, and his mind twists against him, letting Elias break through cracks in his willpower. On top of that Elias is _still touching him_ , and pressing his own, yet clothed, hard cock against Jon's bare arse, and it's all too much.

Through those cracks he can feel how badly Elias wants this. His throat tenses and he tries to speak. "Elias." Dammit. "Please."

"I want you to feel it," Elias murmurs, and rubs his thumb over the top of Jon's now aching cock. "Allow yourself to feel it."

"Fuck you," Jon bites out.

"Hmm," Elias says mildly, and runs his fingers into Jon's hair again, gentle. "We can do better than that." Suddenly the pressure on Jon's mind, Elias's presence, snaps through every effort he's expending, and they're together, blended, meshed. Jon hates it and the terror that comes with it, and that Elias _knows_. "Shh," Elias says softly. "Just be patient. We'll be done before you know it. You're doing so well."

"Elias – "

Fuck. Elias is taking his trousers off now. This is going to happen whether he likes it or not and _shit_ Elias can see every thought in his head, feel everything that courses through him, and he feels Elias's hungry interest in every piece of it. He resists as Elias presses his cock into Jon's arse, but Elias shushes him gently again, his fingertips light in Jon's hair, against his cheek, down his back.

It's incredibly uncomfortable, and Jon's eyes slam shut as Elias moves with intention, his hips forcing his cock deeper and deeper into Jon as Jon tries to breathe. Panic is pressing through him now. "Elias," he breathes out, shaky.

"I'm here," Elias says, almost soothing. "Can't you feel me?"

Jon can. Elias is everywhere. There's nothing he can do, he thinks, and that brief moment, that little consideration of surrender, is enough to make Elias give a brief, breathy laugh, and start to fuck him harder.

Elias wants this so badly. Jon can feel the depth of it, what Elias is showing him, that Elias has wanted him for a long time, that Elias has chosen him for this because he would have no one else against this table right now, and it's not as flattering as Elias might think, considering.

"Now, now," Elias murmurs, shaky in his own tight arousal at each pound into Jon's tensed and tight arse, "I told you that this is for a purpose."

"You would have done this anyway," Jon accuses, despite his fear of retribution, but Elias would have seen it, at any rate – and at least he has some power if he voices it himself, or he can delude himself into that if he wants to. "You've been wanting to fuck me for – "

"Don't be so crude," Elias suggests, and releases a satisfied sound as Elias's utter lust pours through Jon's mind; he's incredibly absorbed in the feel of Jon around him. "There's nothing wrong with wanting someone."

"Go to hell," Jon retorts, and Elias slips his hand back around Jon's cock, starting to jerk him with the same tight motion of his cock into Jon. _Fuck._ It's not him who's starting to shake from the feel of Elias's hand slick with saliva around his cock, it's Elias's tearing desire deep within every corner of his mind, and he groans into the table before he can help it.

"Oh, good, Jon, wonderful," Elias says, warm and gentle, and _fuck Elias_ because Jon can feel his affection now, some fucked-up affection that says rape is just fine, because that's what this is whether Elias likes it or not.

Jon can't handle this, not this all-out assault on every nerve in his body, all alight with wanting, and he breaks, he comes, and he hates himself. "Yes," Elias says, and he's obviously trying to maintain his calm, but he's so close to coming and he's gotten everything he wanted. Jon stays perfectly still as Elias grips his fingers into Jon's hair and hip before releasing a shaky breath and coming with a jerk inside of Jon.

There's an awful silent moment where Elias seems to have nothing to say audibly, but there's a horrible sort of affection that almost, almost threatens to take over Jon before he uses every bit of effort to push it away. Elias pulls his cock out of Jon and pulls up his own trousers. "I see you're upset," Elias starts.

Jon doesn't even think he can form words, but they're still connected, and he lets his utter disdain, disgust, and unfortunately fear push through to Elias, only to get a soft laugh from Elias. "I think you misunderstand what just happened," Elias says, and gently wipes the come from Jon's arse with what feels like a tissue before pulling up his trousers. "This was necessary. And... I think you know why I chose you. Be reasonable."

Jon yanks against the restraints again, beside himself now, and he can feel Elias's frown. "I'm not releasing you until you calm down."

"Are you serious," Jon demands, finally able to form words.

"Yes," Elias says without missing a beat.

Jon forces himself to fall silent, resentful, beyond any anger he's felt in a very long time – possibly ever – which appears to be enough for Elias. The handcuffs leave his wrists and he can finally move off of the table. Elias is looking at him, searching his face for something, and Jon realizes Elias's mind is retreating from his own.

"Can I go?" Jon asks, as steady as he can.

"Yes," Elias answers, his gaze still intent on Jon's face, as though he can see what he wants to see if he looks closely enough.

He doesn't need more than that. He goes, before it can possibly get worse.

* * *

Jon avoids Elias for two complete days. It's a relief. He's angrier than he's ever been for the absolute stupidest reasons, and barely restrains his irritation with the others, who have generally decided that Jon has his bad days and his good days and don't question the uptick in his aggression.

It's fine. He doesn't need anyone to know. He doesn't want anyone to know.

Elias eventually tracks him down. It's not hard for anyone to find him, least of all Elias. Jon refuses to acknowledge him for a long moment, then Elias speaks. "Jon," he says, "it's important that we have an understanding about what happened."

"I understand very well what happened," Jon says tightly.

"I did what I did for a reason," Elias says patiently, "and I wanted you."

"I know." Is that supposed to make it better?

"You're not hearing me," Elias says, tone flattening just a bit. "I wanted you."

"Yes." Jon finally looks at him, unimpressed. "I know how you felt. You made that abundantly clear."

Elias almost looks vaguely wounded. "Jon, there's no need to – "

"I know you're my boss," Jon says, "I know you're all-powerful, but I'd really like for you to fuck off right now."

Elias is silent for a moment, looks contemplative, and Jon already doesn't like this. Elias moves in an utterly casual way around Jon's desk, and Jon shoves his chair back, standing, tensed. "What's your plan?" Elias asks, eyes intent on Jon's face now with vague fascination. "What do you think is going to happen?"

"Elias," Jon says, warning, which is a stupid thing to do; what can he possibly do to Elias that would merit a _warning_? He retreats from that specifically and, rallying, retorts, "Let's be reasonable."

"That's exactly what I'm asking you to do," Elias says, somehow intensely patient, and puts his hands onto Jon's shoulders; as Jon flinches back, Elias's grip tightens, and Jon stops moving. "You understand what's going on. Don't you?"

All at once, as he looks into Elias's face, he can't deny it. Everything has changed, now. He's not just Head Archivist. He's Elias's Archivist.

"Kneel," Elias says, with a faint, encouraging smile.

Jon is silent, still, for only a moment, then Elias just slightly, barely increases the pressure on Jon's shoulders, and Jon drops to one knee, and then the other. Elias undoes his trousers, and despite every part of him screaming against it, Jon allows Elias to gently cup the back of his neck and bring Jon's mouth to his cock.

What's the alternative?

Elias may want him, but Jon isn't foolish enough to think that the man won't throw him to the wolves. Better the wolf you know, who nuzzles your hand though it could bite it clean off.


End file.
